


Ricochet

by abvj



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 20:09:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11169180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abvj/pseuds/abvj
Summary: He still sees Aimee from time to time.





	Ricochet

**Author's Note:**

> For archival purposes. Originally written in 2012 for the prompt _flashback_ and posted elsewhere. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.

He still sees Aimee from time to time.

Like so many other secrets he has, Eliot buries it deep, keeps it to himself. Most days he’s okay trying to convince himself that it’s for her, to keep her safe, to keep a future opponent from figuring out there is yet another person that can be used as leverage against him. But then there are the days where the truth gets caught in this throat, weighs heavily on his shoulders. There are days when he knows the reason he doesn’t tell a soul about Aimee, about who she will always be to him, is because it’s the most selfish thing he’s ever done – trying to keep her close when he is aware that the best thing for her is to get as far away from him as possible.

Eliot sees her when he heads home after San Lorenzo. The team has scattered, taking some time – from conning and each other – and he heads home, or to the place he labels as home in the back of his head, the home that has nothing to do with Nate or Hardison or Parker and Sophie. He likes keeping those two parts of his life separate, defined by a bold line that he doesn’t want to ever cross. It’s not because he’s ashamed of his life with his team, or that he doesn’t care about them. It’s just that his life is separated into two completely separate entities – before and after – and he can’t function today with a constant reminder of who he was, and he likes to be able to escape to the only place left that hasn’t been marred completely by blood, tainted by the man he became.

Aimee is one of the few people that ever got to see a glimpse at both sides of him – the man he was before and the man he is now. When he’s being honest with himself, Eliot knows a large part of the reason he likes seeing her, keeps seeing her even though it’s no good for either of them, is because of that.

They meet at the bar a few blocks over from his sister’s house after he’s been in town a few days. He orders Aimee a beer and nurses his own, hides in the corner and pulls his hat lower on his head. Eliot hears her before he sees her – recognizes the soft gait, the rustle of fabric, the floral scent of that perfume she wears. She slides across from him and it’s nice and easy for a while, catching up like the old friends they pretend they’ll be someday. Aimee’s kinder than him, and she doesn’t wait long before she comes right out and says, _I’m getting married_ like she’s talking about the weather. She doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t tell Eliot the guy’s name, or what he does, or how he’s everything that Eliot could never be for her.

Eliot asks, “He’s good to you?” and she nods. After a moment he continues, “He makes you happy?” and Aimee nods again, just once, before they lapse into a silence for a long while.

When she speaks, she’s looking right at him, not backing down. “The thing is that I get it now, you know. I understand that it was never going to be us. Not in the long run. I’ve… we’ve been holding on to the past and that’s no way to live.”

Aimee’s hair glints golden under the soft hue of the lights and here’s another truth, another secret that everybody who counts already knows: Aimee isn’t the first girl he ever kissed. She isn’t the first girl who let him slide between her legs in the back of his truck, but back when he was still the type of person who was allowed to want for such things, he had wanted her to be the last.

He nods. Fingers peel at the label of his beer. “You’re right about that,” he says, and it comes out kinder than he imagined it could.

All he’s ever wanted for her was to be happy. Eliot thinks about saying that, but doesn’t. The silence pops in his ears and he wishes for all those years ago. It was easier saying goodbye when she hated him.

She reaches for him, but thinks better of it at the last moment, curling her fingers into a fist. “See you around?”

“Yeah.”

Eliot has gotten so good at spinning the truth that he doesn’t taste the lie until it’s already left his mouth, but Aimee smiles, sad and crooked, because she knows.


End file.
